you could've burned forever (had you not met me)
by viansian
Summary: He never could control her. But as she lay in his arms, her blood seeping through his fingers, he cursed himself for not trying.


**Title: you could've burned forever (had you not met me)**

**Rating: T for language and major character death**

**Summary: He never could control her. But as she lay in his arms, her blood seeping through his fingers, he cursed himself for not trying.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow or any characters. **

Oliver Queen never expected to have more than a brief conversation with the blonde woman working in the IT department at Queen Consolidating. When he came in with a bullet-ridden laptop, he was quickly directed to Miss Felicity Smoak's office. It should've been an easy in-and-out. Salvage his computer and that's the end of it.

He never thought she would as questions.

_"I spilled a latte on it," he winced at his own excuse. _

_ "Really?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_Because these look like bullet holes…"_

_ "My coffee shop is in a bad neighborhood."_

She had looked at him, her head tiled and a thousand questions in her eyes. And then, she managed to pull a smile from him. A true, genuine smile.

He hadn't smiled since…well, long before Shado died.

He didn't know why he kept going back to her. To be honest, it was probably a lapse in judgment. He should've gone to different people, spread out the strange requests to disperse suspicion. But he continuously found himself staring back into those blue eyes, stumbling over his words to come up with one bizarre excuse after another. An energy drink in a syringe. A buddy with a very particular taste in arrows. He didn't know why he could lie to everyone (his mother, his sister, his best friend, his ex-lover), but when it came to some blonde technician, he could barely utter a believable syllable.

He didn't know why he though he could trust her (perhaps because she had trusted him first, even when she shouldn't have). He hadn't wanted to suck her into this life. But when his mother shot the Hood, he somehow found himself in her car, blood staining her back seat. It was dangerous, it wasn't the life someone as innocent as her should have to live. But, she seemed so determined, so unwavering in her desire to find Walter, well, how could he turn her down. Dig had doubted him.

"_We're asking her to get involved in some pretty dangerous stuff," the ex-military man had pointed out._

_ "I can protect her."_

_ "Oliver, your mother just shot you. You can't even protect yourself."_

Looking back, he wished he would've listened. He wished he would've pushed her away, he wished he would've been able to control her.

Even if it had meant he would've lost himself.

And he would've. After the Undertaking, he had ran away like the coward he was. He had run to Lian Yu as quickly as he could and hidden there, away from all the empty eyes of those who he had killed, away from the voice of Tommy telling him he had failed. He had run away to wallow in his own misery and self-pity.

Never could he have thought that she would come after him.

Never had he _wanted_ for her to come after him.

Yet there she was.

How could he turn her away? How could he tell her no? How could he show her what a coward he was, what a failure he was? How could he sit back and watch the hope and light fade in those bright blue eyes?

So he had come back. He became the Arrow. He swore to never kill. He swore to be a better man. For Tommy. For _her_.

He didn't like the idea of using her as bait. Not for someone as ruthless, as vicious as the Dollmaker. If he had it his way, she would never leave the basement of Verdant, she would never go out into the field and she sure as hell would never be in danger. But then she said those words, and how could not let her go?

_"It's my life. My choice."_

It was that moment that Oliver Queen realized that he couldn't control her if he tried.

His heart had nearly stopped when the Dollmaker grabbed her. His breath caught in his throat when he didn't know if he could reach her in time. It was only when a gloved hand touched her skin and looked into her frightened blue eyes and he knew she wasn't going to be some serial-killer's next work of art that he could breath again. Dollmaker be damned. She came first.

He realized how little influence he had over her when she went after Count Vertigo. By herself.

He was a bit irritated as to why she was calling him when she knew his mother's trial was going on. But when he heard the Count's voice on the other end of the line.

The storm of rage that had swelled inside of him was stronger than any he had ever felt before. It was only rivaled by his fear for the IT girl's life.

Rumor had it in the criminal underground that the Arrow had gone soft. He didn't kill anymore.

That night, the man in the hood sent a warning: touch the blonde and you will find out just how ruthless the Arrow can be. Three arrows to the Count's chest was a mercy in Oliver's eyes.

He had told her the truth, there had been no choice to make. He would do anything to protect Felicity, just like he had told Diggle.

It would just be so much easier if he could control her.

Yet she proved time and time again that he could not control her. She was as wild as the waves of the ocean and trying to restrain her was like trying to catch a ray of light. She was a whirlwind that he could not reap, a storm of hope and purity. She had saved him. She had given him a reason to live, a reason to go on. She had drawn him out of his despair and made him _believe_ that he could be better. She was the epitome of all that was good and right in the world. She was the very incarnation of the innocence and bravery that he lacked. He was yin and she was yang. He was dark and she was light. But she was stronger than light. She was incorruptible.

Perhaps that was why Slade came after her.

He hadn't seen it coming. The one-eyed many had never even met Felicity. She shouldn't have been his target. When Slade had told Oliver that there was still one more person who had to die, his mind had jumped to one person.

Sara.

So he had left town to find her and warn her. He was 13 miles outside of Starling when he got a frantic call from Dig saying that Felicity had disappeared. She wasn't at her apartment. She wasn't at Queen Consolidating. And she wasn't at Verdant.

His heart had turned to ice and his throat to fire. The last words she said to him rang in his head over and over again.

_"Find Sara."_

_ "What about you? You want me to just leave you alone to fend for yourself?"_

_ "I'll be fine, Oliver. I have Dig. Besides, why would Slade come after me?"_

It all became so clear to him. Slade would go after her because she was his light. She was the saint that stood between him and his own sins.

And without her…without her the darkness inside of him would run free, like a demon liberated from hell.

He ran into the lair expecting to see Dig. Instead he saw Felicity, hands tied behind her back, kneeling on the ground. When she heard him, her head jerked up and a small whimper.

"Oliver! Get out of here now-"

A body stepped out of the shadows and struck her over the head with the butt of a gun. A small yelp of pain escaped her painted lips followed by a whimper.

"So good to see you, kid. Were you trying to skip town? I told you there was one more person who had to die." Slade slowly removed his helmet, revealing the familiar face and an eye patch.

"Not her." Oliver hated how weak and quiet his voice sounded. "Slade, this is me begging. Please. _Not her_."

A cold chuckle escaped the one-eyed man. "It's a little late for that, kid."

Something inside of him snapped. The cold fear was replaced by a burning anger. "She has nothing to do with this, you sick psychopath!" he screamed. "I didn't even know her when Shado died!"

"But you know her now!" Very slowly, Slade pointed the gun to her head. "And now she means more to you than anything else in the world, doesn't she? She saved you. She made you believe that you could be better. I hate to break it to you, kid, but you can't. You're just like me."

Suddenly, Slade jerked the gun away and walked towards Oliver. He stood toe-to-toe and looked into his eyes. "She came to me, kid," he rasped. "Begged me to spare you, to let you live. She really is incorruptible."

There was a pause. Ever so softly, the Starling City vigilante heard a small voice come from behind his enemy.

"Oliver."

It was so soft; something between a question and a plea for forgiveness.

If only she knew that he could never be angry with her.

If only she knew that he lov-

"Such a pity," Slade whispered.

Two loud shots echoed in the basement of the club, then silence.

A tiny "Oh," came from Felicity as she looked down at the two red stains blossoming across her chest like the flowers printed on her blouse. Then she fell to the ground.

Pushing his way past Slade, not even recognizing his own screams, the Arrow ran to his Girl Friday. Murmuring words of denial as he untied her hands and picked her up in his arms.

"Now, you will know true despair," Slade said. His voice was hollow and numb. "Your punishment is life. You will live without your light, and all you will know is darkness, just as I have."

"_You bastard, I'll rip you apart!"_ His own scream sounded foreign in his ears. But when he looked up, the one-eyed man was gone.

She softly whispered his name as he rocked her back and forth, her blood staining his leather suit. She had whispered apologies to him only to have him brush them away with false promises of happy endings.

"Oliver, I can't feel my toes," her voice was barely audible.

"Shhh," he replied. "I've got you. I've got you."

Her breathing became shallower, and her eyes fluttered shut. Her blood was everywhere and her blue eyes were dulling, the light in them slowly fading.

"Felicity. Felicity, why did you go to him?" he asked, his voice shaking and his chest tight. "Why didn't you stay safe. Why did you have to try to save me?"

She opened her eyes and raised a bloodstained hand to touch his face. "My life…" she whispered. "My choice."

Her body went limp in his arms.

He never could control her. But she lay in his arms, her blood seeping through his fingers, he cursed himself for not trying.

He cursed himself for bringing a light that burned so bright into this world of death and destruction. He cursed himself for not pushing her away the second Dig had brought up the question of her safety. He cursed himself for not being able to protect her. He cursed himself for destroying something as beautiful as her.

Looking back, he realized now that both stories ended the same way.

If he had pushed her away then, he would have been swallowed by the darkness she had saved him from.

But without her now, he was as good as consumed.

**(A/N Kinda dark but whatever. It's a Monday night and it's raining. What's a little more darkness? Review if you want, I guess.)**


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